You Have Become An Island
by Ramarama
Summary: It's funny. Victoria Argent is a werewolf. It's just hilarious, actually. In which Allison gets home unexpectedly early in "Party Guessed" and interrupts the suicide. This is going to go over great with... well, everyone. Slight AU. Chapter 4: Derek raises an eyebrow. "If I agree, Victoria, it will be your pack too."
1. Night

Victoria takes a deep breath, feeling the blade point scratch against the delicate skin of her breastbone. "_Chris_," her voice hitches against her will. "Chris, I can't, I need your help..."

His hands are ice cold around hers, and shaking just as fiercely, but he clasps her close and steadies the knife as well as he can. "I love you."

Maybe she can't keep her voice steady, but Victoria Argent refuses to cry. "I love you too, and Allison, she won't understand. Tell her I love her, that I'm doing this for her..."

And then the moon breaks through the clouds and she can feel a rushing in her blood unlike anything she's ever known and her eyesight is dimming and her hearing and sense of smell are overpowering her other senses and she just barely chokes out "_Now, do it, now,_" because she's distracted by a noise on the stairs that she hadn't been able to hear before and something intensely painful is happening to her chest and there's a voice screaming, a voice she knows...

And then Chris lurches out from under her, whirling to cover the bloodstained knife that had twisted aside at the last moment of Allison's shriek. But the pain is already so much less than before, and as she looks down she can see the skin knitting back together, even with her diminished eyesight, and but she still smells blood and there is _prey_ in this small space with her and even disoriented, her body knows what to do.

The wolf crouches on the ground, weighing who to attack first - the larger one is closer and gripping a weapon that could be dangerous later but the smaller one is too terrified to move and wolves _always_ go after the weakest prey first.

But as she tenses her muscles to spring, the smaller one holds out a hand and says, "Mom?"

For a moment, the wolf is confused at this odd sound, but then her brain is translating and Victoria blinks, struggling to focus her suddenly improved vision. Off-balance, she sits down hard, catching herself with one perfectly manicured hand. "Allison?"

There is a moment of complete silence. Allison stands in the middle of the room, one hand still stretched out in entreaty, the other clasped tightly over her mouth. Chris is holding himself primed to spring: weight evenly-spaced on his toes, knife in one hand, pistol in the other, poised between her and their daughter. But his eyes are wide, so wide, and there are tear-tracks drying on his face.

Victoria looks out at the moon, still glaring malevolently through the window at their little tableau, and then down at her hands, her normal, _human_ hands. "What..."

Allison is glancing back and forth between the blood on her shirt and the knife in Chris' hand, rapidly gaining control of herself. "What are you doing? What's going on?"

For a moment, Chris stays frozen, watching her in horror or perhaps wonder, until he shakes his head and blinks, belatedly sheathing the knife. "Allison, go downstairs."

"What? No!"

"Go downstairs. _Now_."

"NO!" And then Allison, their pretty, dimpled, good-natured daughter, sinks into a fighting stance, pulling out a pair of Kate's old blades from the back of her jeans. "I don't know what the hell you were doing up here, but I am _not leaving_."

"It's okay, Chris." Victoria puts a hand out, proud that it doesn't shake, and after a moment, he helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry you had to see this, sweetheart. I wrote you a letter, for after, to explain everything..."

"A letter?" Allison's voice rises and one of the knives falls from her loose grip. "You were going to _kill yourself in my bedroom_ and just leave me _a letter?_" She takes a step back, empty hand going to her throat. "What is wrong with you?"

Unable to help herself, Victoria steps forward, trying not to let her expression change when her daughter flinches back. "Honey, I'm so sorry. But surely you understand, now that the bite has taken, I can't..." she searches for a word. "The Code..."

"_Screw_ the Code!" Allison bites out. "Look at you! It's the full moon, and you're controlling it! How is that against the Code? And what about me? What about your daughter? You were going to leave me without a mother because of some stupid Code?" Tears well her in eyes, but she clenches her jaw and they don't fall. "What kind of _monster_ would do that?"

Chris puts an arm around Victoria's shoulders, and she leans back against his touch, trying to shove down the fact that she can still hear his heartbeat racing, and smell the tears in her daughter's eyes. "Allison, the Code is there to remind us that we don't always need to kill. But it is also there to remind us that sometimes we _have_ _to_."

"But Mom hasn't done anything! She's controlling it! Like Scott! We said we wouldn't kill him if he kept to the Code-" At their studied silence her eyes narrow. "You both just flinched. What does this have to do with Scott?" She drops the other knife as her hands fly to her mouth. "He didn't bite you, did he?"

Victoria exchanges a glance with her husband, and Chris sighs. "No, not exactly."

"Not exactly? Who bit you? One of the betas? Erica?"

She takes a deep breath, ignoring all the new sensations that come with it. "Derek Hale."

For the second time in as many minutes, Allison looks completely stunned. "_Derek_? Why would Derek bite you? He hates you!"

Feeling simultaneously like she's aged half a century and like she's never had more energy in her life, Victoria sinks onto the bed, and pats the spot beside her. After a moment, Allison hesitantly perches on the edge, leaving several inches of space between them. "It was... it was an accident." She sighs, and tries not to think about the unbearable pain, the disgust, the _power_ she feels. "I can promise he didn't mean for this to happen."

Allison's brows draw together and she frowns suspiciously. "But what does that have to do with Scott?"

Unable to help herself, Victoria takes Allison's hand, revelling in a touch she'd never thought to feel again. "It doesn't matter now. What... what I am, it changes _everything_."

Against Victoria's hopes, her daughter turns to her and catches her other hand, clutching them tightly against the flowery bedspread. "It does, but not the way you think. You're controlling it! On the full moon! Even Scott couldn't do that the first time. This has to mean you're not a danger to us. You're not breaking the Code. This could change so much, don't you see? A hunter and a wolf? We could have peace! If anyone could manage it, it would be our family..."

Chris sits next to her, heavily, more heavily than he's sat since Kate's death. "Gerard..."

At his name, Allison flies to her feet. "He's not family! He didn't care about Kate, he doesn't care about us! Scott told me what he did to that Omega - he's just trying to pit everyone against each other and we don't have to listen!" She takes a deep breath. "I know you don't like Derek or Scott, and I know I don't like Erica, _but they haven't killed anyone_. The only person they killed was Peter Hale, and they're trying to stop the kanima - just like us! If we could work together..."

Chris sighs and presses a gentle hand to Victoria's shoulder. "Perhaps we should just get through tonight? I'm interested to know how your mother managed to control it so easily."

Victoria doesn't know when they stopped thinking in terms of her death and started thinking in terms of her life. She swallows and meets his eyes. "I wouldn't say it is _easy_. I just... when I saw Allison..."

Her daughter sits back down and hesitantly takes her hand again. "Scott said that you have to have an anchor, something or someone that keeps you grounded, keeps you human. He said Derek's is his anger, but Scott's is..." she blushes, "-well, me."

She can actually _hear_ the skin move over Chris' face as he raises an eyebrow. "I guess we have more in common with him than we thought."

Victoria makes an unconscious face at that idea and Allison chuckles wetly. "I'm going to have to start charging or something. Professional werewolf anchor."

Against all odds, she feels herself start to laugh. And why not? It's funny. Victoria Argent is a werewolf. It's hilarious actually. She can't seem to stop laughing at that thought and Chris is on his feet again and the blade is out and oh god she wasn't supposed to live through this, she wasn't supposed to become this and her eyesight is going again but then soft hands are grabbing hers, heedless of the sharp claws running out and a voice is chanting, "Mom, Mom, Mom, hang on to it," and then she can see Allison again but only for a second before she blurs and she can't shift, she has to hang on to it, her daughter is in the room, she can't shift. It's only when she feels two pairs of familiar arms around her that she realizes she's not shifting, she's crying, she's crying, she's crying.

But Allison and Chris hold her between them, and she clings to her willpower with all the strength in her weak human body and Victoria doesn't shift.


	2. Morning

Victoria wakes disoriented. It takes her a moment to realize she's in her daughter's room and not in her own, but then she remembers the night before. The moon. The wolf. Allison.

Chris is asleep in the chair next to the bed, head propped on his fist and snoring softly. His gun rests in his lap, and there's a long knife caked in dried blood lying on the nightstand. She considers silently stretching her hand out, sliding it carefully off the nightstand, sinking it into her heart without a word. She has the strength now, and she knows the cost of remaining alive.

But then there's a murmur from behind her, and the bed shifts as Allison rolls over.

She remembers her daughter's words: _You were going to leave me without a mother because of some stupid Code? What kind of _monster_ would do that?_ Victoria Argent may be many things, including a werewolf, but she cannot be a monster to her daughter. No, an honorable death will never be hers.

Instead, she carefully sits up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. Chris is instantly awake, and they stare at each other in silence, until he jerks his head and they tiptoe into the alcove by the doorway. For a moment, he stands with his forehead resting against the wall, next to the picture of them on safari outside Nairobi two years ago. Victoria lets her eyes drift over the photo: Chris with that truly impressive gun, Allison's bright smile, and her own arms around both of them. _What a beautiful family_, people said. _You all look so happy_.

When Chris turns around, he doesn't look happy, he looks wrecked. "I don't know what to do, Victoria."

She steps over to him, pulling him into her arms, enjoying the easy embrace she's known for almost two decades. The familiar smell of him, so much less potent than last night but still stronger than normal; the steady beat of his heart, no longer just against her chest but also echoing softly in her ears - her werewolf senses make her love him all the more, and that might be the worst part. "It's going to be okay, we'll figure it out."

He sighs heavily against her ear, and his breath smells like the leftover salmon in the fridge. Her own mouth tastes like death, and in a bout of insanity she wonders if werewolves get hairballs. She resolutely quashes her slightly-manic desire to smile and strokes the back of his head. "We need to figure out how to deal with Gerard, at least for the moment. We can decide on a long-term strategy later."

Chris pulls away, swiping surreptitiously at his eyes and clearing his throat quietly. "What should I tell him? Can we hide the truth?"

Victoria taps a nail against her lips. "It will be difficult for both you and Allison to keep up a facade of my death for any period of time, particularly with him still living in the house. But I don't think he'll accept my... circumstances, so it may be our only option."

Someone snorts behind them, and Allison raises an eyebrow from where she leans against the wall. "Isn't it a little early for secret plots?"

Victoria sniffs. "It's never too early to strategize, sweetheart." She tries not to let herself smile when Allison rolls her eyes and slips an arm around Chris's waist, but she feels a cautious kind of hope at the familiar gesture. "As I was saying, Gerard is the immediate problem. The sound-proofing in the room has given us a window, but we're already on borrowed time and he's undoubtedly already suspicious as to why you didn't come down last night. "

Allison yawns mightily, only belatedly covering her mouth when Victoria sends her a look. "Will he buy the I'm-emotionally-compromised-because-my-mother-kill ed-herself-in-my-bedroom card? That would explain why Dad stayed with me."

Chris frowns down at their daughter but lets the sally pass. "Do you think you could play that well enough to fool him? Gerard is not an easy mark."

Years of controlling her expressions and Victoria still barely suppresses the urge to smack herself in the face, because while she loves her husband, he walked into that one softer than a rabbit to a neck-snare.

The steel in Allison's smirk says that's precisely what she intended. "Well, I'd say that I'm-emotionally-compromised-because-my-mother-_almost_-killed-herself-in-my-bedroom is pretty close, and I'm positive I can sell that."

The barb has more of a raw edge than she'd expected, and for the first time since running down the dreadful McCall boy, Victoria wonders if maybe Allison _won't_ get over this. She ruthlessly tamps down that thought. Argents _survive_.

Her daughter tosses back her hair, and levels a look like she knows _exactly_ what Victoria is thinking. "I could probably get upset enough to give Dad cause to kick Gerard out. My 'sensitive emotional state' and 'this is a tough time' and all that."

Victoria deliberately ignores the subtext. "That would be ideal - the less contact Gerard has with you, the longer you can sustain the ruse, and the longer we have to formulate a more concrete plan." She takes a breath. "I'll have to leave. I won't be able to contact you for a while."

Allison's eyes widen and she darts out from under her father's arm, anger forgotten. "Mom, you can't, you have to go to Derek, you have to get trained, _you can't leave us_." She narrows her eyes. "How do I know you won't just kill yourself the second you're out of my sight?"

"Allison Rose Argent, you watch your mouth!"

Victoria sighs and rubs her eyes while Allison glares mutinously at her father. "It's all right, Chris. I suppose I did invite the question." She takes her daughter's limp hands, and waits until she meets her eyes. "Sweetheart, the time for that has passed and the damage done - there is nothing to be gained from that plan. I swear I will not try to take my own life again. Okay? But I can't be anywhere near Gerard or it will all be for nothing."

"But what about getting trained? You need to stay somewhere close to the Beacon Hills pack." Her eyes light up. "You could stay at the Hale house, Gerard will never guess you'd be there!"

Chris snorts. "Honey, we practically spend more time at the Hale house than we do at our own."

Allison winces. "I guess that's true."

Victoria allows herself to squeeze Allison's shoulders gently. "Don't worry, I'll be just fine. But this will mean you have to take over as the authority in this family while I'm gone. I'll try to contact you when I can, but you'll need to keep everyone in line. And just because you know I'm still alive, you shouldn't counsel for reason or empathy. Gerard _must_ believe you are a grieving daughter, that you're confused and angry, and prone to rash decisions." She draws Allison's chin up, holding her gaze. "This is a dangerous line to walk. Be smart, be wary, do not trust Gerard now. We have made him our enemy."

Allison meets her eyes fiercely. "No, Mom. _I_ made him our enemy. But I know what I'm doing, I can handle it, I can lead the family." She straightens her shoulders. "If I get Derek to agree to teach you what you need to know, will you listen?"

Despite the pillow creases on her face and tangled hair, Victoria can see how easily Allison wears the mantle of a leader. She smiles, more proud than she's been since the moment the doctor first laid her baby in her arms and said, _It's a girl_. "For you, I will."

And then Allison is hugging her, and Victoria lets herself indulge in the embrace. Chris squeezes them both, and everyone is breathing hard and trying not to cry, and laughing at themselves while trying to stay quiet, which just makes them laugh harder. She tries to box this moment up in her mind, to sustain her for the days and maybe weeks of separation and fear ahead.

But they're all conscious of Gerard downstairs, so Victoria breaks away and goes to Allison's closet. "I can't take any of my clothes or someone will notice, so I'm going to need to borrow some of yours, sweetie." Allison helps her pick some clothing that will lend itself to cold nights and hiking and also fit her larger frame, while Chris empties Allison's old backpack from freshman year. Then all too soon, she's poised at the open window, mentally gauging the distance to the ground.

Allison doesn't meet her eyes when she quietly notes that the easiest way down is via the garage roof and then the drainpipe and nearest planter box. Victoria raises an eyebrow at Chris, but now is not the time to dwell on exactly _how_ their daughter knows that, and precisely _who_ has been using that route, so she doesn't comment.

Chris kisses her quickly and places his gun in her hand before zipping up her borrowed sweatshirt. "I love you, stay safe, keep your head down. I'll be on the lookout."

Allison's chin is trembling. "I'm really sorry, Mom. About everything."

Victoria gathers her strong, smart, _far-too-young_ daughter into her arms and closes her eyes. "Sh, sweetie. I've been around a lot longer than you, I can handle this." She presses a kiss to Allison's forehead. "Remember that I love you, and I will try to get in touch as soon as it's safe. I know you can do this. You're _my_ daughter, after all." She squeezes her tightly one more time, trying to imprint the contours of Allison's face into her chest, and then she's out the window and gone.


	3. Running

Running is easy. Victoria has always enjoyed running, has always stayed fit - the other mothers in one of their old neighborhoods had been jealous of how quickly she'd dropped her baby weight after Allison's birth. She'd smiled and admitted to a great metabolism, because she couldn't say that hunters didn't stay alive for long if they were slow.

But running _now_, it's like nothing she's ever experienced before. Not only is she fast - faster than she'd been in high school, or on the Wellesley track team - but she's _quick_. Ducking under branches and leaping roots barely requires thought, but it isn't until she plants one hand on a fallen tree and _vaults_ the whole thing without breaking stride that she realizes something is different. She's light on her feet and well balanced; even breaking through a rabbit hole or leaping a stream doesn't throw her. It's easy to tell the best path and the wind in her face keeps her cool.

It's almost, well... fun.

Victoria doesn't want it to be _fun._

Three miles outside of town, she slows to a stop, barely even breathing hard. She turns west, and follows the highway until it's too dark to see. She turns off at the next exit and stops at the second no-tell motel she comes across. There isn't much she can do about her hair, but she's got one of Allison's scarves, so she ties it around her head, shoves the gun down the back of her pants, and hopes for the best.

She spends the night in the motel, though she has to sleep with toilet paper stuffed in her nose because the room smells so strongly of smoke and bleach and off-brand air freshener that her newly-sensitive nose almost sends her back onto the street. In the morning, she dyes her hair and eyebrows black, washes all the makeup off her face, and gets back on the road.

Days become an endless blur of train tracks and back roads and the constant threat of discovery. Sometimes she hops a bus for a quick ride, but mostly she runs. Towns and gas stations and rest stops, always looking out for hunters, always with one eye behind her.

After three days, she hits Nevada. She's seen no signs of pursuit, so she buys a pay-as-you-go phone at Walmart and finds a secluded spot in the parking lot away from the cameras.

It's the middle of the day, and Allison will be in class. Victoria only lets it ring once before hanging up. Three minutes later her phone chirps. "Hello?"

"This is Allison, I think you just called me?" Her voice is calm, but a mother knows when her daughter is lying.

"Hello Allison, I'm Tiffany, with Alpo dog food company, is now a good time to answer a few questions for a survey?"

"Yes, now is a good time, go ahead."

Victoria drops the pretense. "Hi, honey."

"Mom! How are you? Are you okay? I'm in the bathroom at school, I don't have long."

She smiles into the phone. "I'm fine sweetie. No sign of pursuit so far, no trouble at all. I think it will be safer for me to call you, since Gerard might be monitoring your father's phone."

Allison snorts. "After I screamed at him that this was all his fault and all he brought to our family was misery and death and I wished he would die, I think he's giving us some space."

Victoria smiles. "Well done. How did he take it?"

"I don't think he suspects anything yet, or at least not more than the normal secrets a teenage girl keeps from her parents. I let him catch me crying during passing period, and fighting with Scott in the parking lot. I might ransack my locker later today if the mood takes me."

Despite the mention of her least favorite person on the planet, she keeps her voice light. "Sounds like you've got everything under control, but I know I don't need to tell you not to underestimate him."

"I _know_, Mom."

"And there's the daughter I recognize! If you think you can let your father know I'm alright without tipping anyone's suspicions, please do."

"Okay, we're meeting with Gerard and some other hunters after dark, to strategize on tracking the betas so I'll tell him on our way home."

"I think that's wise. You should get back to class now, before anyone suspects. I'll call again when I can. Same drill - one ring. Don't call me back until you're alone. I can wait. I love you, Allison."

"I love you, too. And Mom? I, um... I kind of told Scott."

She clenches a fist but keeps her voice even. "You kind of told Scott?"

On the other end of the line, Allison lets her breath out in a rush. "Yeah. We need him, to get Derek to help us!"

"We can talk about why exactly you did this at another time. The important thing is will he be able to keep it secret? The boy is a terrible liar."

"Yes! You don't think Scott has been keeping his wolf-ness a secret from oh, I don't know, _everyone_?"

"Everyone except _the people hunting him_, you mean?"

Allison has the grace to sound chagrined. "It was a necessary risk. We _need_ Derek."

Victoria pinches the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache she can feel building in her temples. "Once Derek knows, his whole pack will know. The more people in on our secret, the more chance we'll be found out. The pack has no love for us. And it's not just my life at stake here, Allison. Yours and your father's are on the line too. Gerard does not tolerate lying."

"I_ know, _Mom!" Allison takes a deep breath. "I said it was a necessary risk. Will you just trust me? I know what I'm doing. Now I have to get back to class, or Mr. Harris will report me."

Victoria sighs. "Okay. Just be careful. I'm your mother, I worry."

In a softer voice, Allison says, "I know, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Victoria sits staring at the phone for a long time, then crushes it in her hand like a soda can, and drops it in the storm drain.


	4. Meeting

A week and a half later, Victoria waits in a small cafe in a tiny town she'd never heard of until twelve hours previously, with her back to the farthest corner from the door and Chris' gun on her lap.

She orders a decaf coffee, and settles in to wait. Allison had set up this meeting, and while she loves and trusts her daughter, that doesn't mean the girl couldn't be fooled by poofy hair and an uneven jawline. She had been before, after all. But you have to get up earlier in the morning than that to pull one over on Victoria Argent, so here she is - five hours early, keeping an eye out to make sure no idiotic wolf kid tries to sneak in and flank her.

When Allison had pressured her again two days ago to meet with Scott McCall, she'd gone out of her way to emphasize that she was only humoring her daughter. But the dark truth: Victoria is scared. Despite (or perhaps because of) the family business, she'd practically forgotten what fear felt like until she'd been faced with that blade under the moonlight, until she had laid awake, desperately praying to stay human while her family held her.

And now she is always afraid. But what scares Victoria Argent more than anything, the deep fear that clasps her neck all day and lays on her chest at night, is the wolf. Her wolf. It is always rumbling under the surface, urging her to leave her petty human concerns behind and just _run_. And it is getting increasingly harder for Victoria to stay sure that it is just the wolf.

She hopes it is just because the hunt is in her blood as an Argent, that it is only an amplification of her own human tendencies. But she fears that she is _becoming_ the wolf; that one full moon, Victoria will disappear entirely, and never come back.

So if she has to meet with some snot-nosed puppy and his sour big brother to keep her promise to her daughter, well, she's made worse sacrifices in her life.

Suddenly her senses, both wolf and hunter, flicker to life just as Derek Hale opens the door to the cafe. He doesn't even glance around, just strides right to her table and sits down like he knew she'd be here. And he probably did know. She's not sure if that's due to his wolf senses or that he can predict her just as well as she can predict him. The jury is still out on which would be worse. "Victoria."

She raises her chin and smiles coolly. "Mr. Hale." It will take more than an up-jumped Alpha with broody eyes and a weird predilection for turning whiny teenagers to get under her skin.

"You're early."

She does not allow herself to indulge in something so juvenile as an eye roll, but she thinks about it. "We can trade notes on the obvious later. I presume you wish to speak with me before my daughter and Scott arrive?"

He snorts and surveys the rest of the cafe nonchalantly. "You're on the run from your family, you have a gun under the table, and the next full moon is less than three weeks away. I _presume_ you need my help."

Her hand is itching to smack that smug smile off his face, and from the twist of his eyebrow, she knows he can tell. But two can play this game. "_I _presume you don't want someone with the location, population, and full history of your pack joining any other Alpha." She tilts her head and smiles softly. "_I _presume you also would not want someone with that knowledge to lose control on the full moon that is less than three weeks away." She lets some iron creep into her voice. "Don't underestimate me, Derek. My husband may be good, but you've never seen anything like me."

Derek narrows his eyes at her. "You're a liability."

"You _made_ me a liability. What did you think would happen when you bit me?"

To her surprise, he blows out a breath and leans back in his chair. "Honestly, I wasn't thinking at all. If I had been, I would have ripped your throat out."

She brushes aside a chill. "You would have done us both a favor. But now I'm your problem, and I swore to my daughter that I would stay alive. Argents don't break their word." She folds her hands carefully on the table and addresses her coffee cup. "I can keep the wolf under control, but I need training. You taught McCall, you will teach me. Once I know how to use it, I will be out of your hair and out of Beacon Hills for good. No one else needs to know."

He chuckles darkly. "Victoria, Victoria, Victoria." She tries not to bristle at his casual use of her name, and her wolf shudders, pushing along the edge of her control. The sheer number of teeth in his smile says he can tell. "You think you have it under control, you think you can use it. _That's_ why you need training. Because you have no idea what you're dealing with." He steeples his fingers and regards her frankly. "You have studied us and hunted us and killed us, but you don't _understand _us."

Victoria mentally counts to five in Latin, and when she doesn't have a better idea in that time, sighs and meets his eyes. "Unfortunately, I agree. It seems to me that I am in a particularly unique situation. In fact, as my daughter pointed out, we are _all_ in a unique situation. We share a common enemy, and now a common bond. If there is ever to be a third path between either destruction for wolves or destruction for hunters, it will be here with my family and your pack."

Derek considers her in silence. "If I agree, Victoria, it will be _your_ pack too. Once you're in, you're in." He gives her a hard look that shuts down her protest before she voices it, and her wolf thinks, _Alpha_. "This is part of that understanding your hunters lack. Pack isn't a choice. You may be able to learn from us and then leave," he smiles toothily again, "but don't think you can just go back to normal." And then his smile disappears and the Alpha look is back. "I'm not saying I agree. A pack doesn't run on a hierarchy the way humans think of it. The other betas will have to accept you as well. And I don't know if we can trust you. You killed my whole family, you tried to kill me, you tried to kill Scott barely two weeks ago!"

Victoria raises her chin. "_Kate_ went rogue and killed your family - had we known, she would have been made to answer to the Code. But there is nothing any of us can do about that now, your uncle saw to that. As for the McCall boy, I sought to protect my own daughter from what I considered a threat." She looks up at the ceiling. "It is possible, when seen from this side of things, that I perhaps... overreacted."

Derek huffs and rolls his eyes. "Oh, _perhaps_. And me?"

She smiles primly. "I would imagine that in your pack or not, I will continue trying to kill you. But as long as you keep to the Code, I won't kill you _dead_."

He huffs again, stretching long legs out in front of him, the picture of ease. "You can't just join the pack because we happen to be on the same side regarding the kanima. It won't be around forever, and my enemy's enemy is only an ally. Pack does not equate to 'ally'."

"Yes, I understand-"

"_No, I don't think you do_. This is not the PTA. This is not community college. This is not just training you until you can control your wolf. This is pack. You're in, or you're not."

She raises an eyebrow, quelling the hackles rising on the back of her neck. "McCall's not in."

Derek mirrors her eyebrow. "You want to learn from Scott, be my guest. In fact, invite me along. I'll watch."

Victoria nods a point scored, but holds her line. "Would it make you feel better if I took a week to think it over, or can we behave like adults and stop stringing this along? You and I both know this is the only feasible answer. If I wasn't ready to accept this, I wouldn't be here. If you weren't willing to entertain the idea, you wouldn't be here."

The look he sends her would strip paint, but Gerard Argent officiated her wedding so it will take more than that to unsettle her. "I haven't decided yet. I'll need to talk it over with the others."

She shrugs. "That seems reasonable, just don't waste my time." Carefully nonchalant, she takes a sip of her tepid coffee. "There is one other thing. When I didn't... go through with the plan Gerard had laid out, shall we say, I made him my enemy. If he finds out I am still alive, he will destroy me. That brings a whole new level of danger to your door; to your family, and to mine. I will need to learn as fast as possible and then disappear."

Derek sighs. "We've dealt with Gerard before-"

Victoria holds up a hand. "Derek, please listen. Until now, he has only been playing with you. If he wanted to truly strike- _when_ he decides to truly strike, you can be certain there is no defense."

He frowns at her, eyes sparking red. "What do you propose we do?"

She shrugs. "_Teach quickly_."


End file.
